


Cold Turkey

by storytellerof221b



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Excursión, Inexperienced Sherlock Holmes, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-24 20:01:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22243624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storytellerof221b/pseuds/storytellerof221b
Summary: Sherlock is showing some weird behaviour and John worries about him. Sherlock wouldn't tell though and John tries to help in some other way.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter One

Sherlock moved through 221B like a shadow. He was wearing his pyjamas and a soft, well-worn grey t-shirt. His dressing-gown was open and hung half over his shoulder together with his shirt. There were stains of tea and jam on it but he didn’t seem to mind. Plus, his hair was a mess and he could have used a shower.  
John sat in his armchair and tried to read the newspaper. The moving figure of his flatmate disturbed his concentration and he very quietly sighed. This had been going on for days now and John wondered what was up.  
Sherlock had several cases going and was rather pleased with everything. Boredom wasn’t the problem then.  
His behaviour gave John reason to worry. Normally when he felt bad because he was bothered by someone or something, he let it out loudly complaining, yelling, or even shooting the wall. But this? Simply walking from one corner of the room to another, sometimes entering his bedroom or the bath and ending up in the kitchen to nibble on something and leave it halfway eaten on the counter for John to clean away. This was just weird.  
John was scared about only the idea of Sherlock being depressed. Perhaps he would go out and get some drugs to entertain himself properly. John hoped not. And God help him, he would stop him.  
“Sherlock?” John tried to interrupt his ghostly pacing. There was no reaction.  
“Sherlock?” John tried again but nothing. He folded the paper and placed it on the hardwood. He stood and stepped into Sherlock’s way.  
“Sherlock William Scott Holmes! Are you there?” Sherlock bumped into John’s compact body and slowly focused.  
“Hm?” John reached out and led him backwards towards the sofa. He sat down and pulled him along.  
“Tell me what bothers you.” He simply said and kept holding his wrist. Sherlock slumped into the cushion.  
“I am not bothered.” He answered sounding just a little bit annoyed.  
“You are bothered by something or someone. Your behaviour isn’t your usual. Please, I just want to help.” John quietly said trying to catch his eyes.  
“I know you do. But you can’t.” Sherlock met John’s eyes but didn’t elaborate. John sighed but not out loud.  
“Very well. But I need you to do me one favour. Please have a shower and change your clothes.” John told him and let go of his wrist. Sherlock looked at his wrist, as if he had just suffered a great loss. Then he frowned.  
“Two favours.” He replied but stood. He shed his dressing-gown on the way and disappeared into the bath. John kept listening for a moment but rather quickly heard the toilet flush and the water running through the pipes. He smiled.

***

The water poured over Sherlock and soaked his body and hair. He closed his eyes and sighed. He knew he had been smelly already, but hadn’t been able to take a shower. Now he was rather embarrassed, that John had to tell him off.  
And of course, he was bothered and quite badly though. The problem was he never could reveal the reason to John. It was too bothersome. Also, even more embarrassing than being smelly. And childish. John would sneer at him for days on end. No, he wouldn’t tell him. Instead he would shower regularly and try to concentrate on his cases. Maybe even get more from Lestrade. Or even Mycroft. He needed to be busy, needed distraction.  
He stopped thinking rather abruptly when the water got cold. Luckily, he had washed both the shampoo and the shower-gel off already. He almost jumped out of the tub and took a towel from the rack. He even hung it back up after using it. John would be pleased.  
He walked into his bedroom and dressed into fresh comfy clothes. He looked into the mirror and looked at his wild hair. He just ruffled it and let it air-dry. John would like that. Sherlock had no idea why, but he wanted him to feel good.  
He returned into the living-room and expectantly looked at John.  
“I hope, I am not smelly anymore?” He lowered his head to let John inhale. Instead he felt him tense and lean back a bit. He didn’t move though and waited for him to breathe.  
“Much better. Thank you, mate.” John’s voice sounded rough, but Sherlock was pleased and sat on the sofa.  
Carefully John lowered the paper onto his lap and tried to get comfortable again.  
“Damn it all to hell and back!” He thought and looked at his very attractive flatmate who by now lounged outstretched with one foot on top of the back and the other one on the hardwood. John cleared his throat and it made Sherlock turn his head.  
“Would you like some dinner?” John asked hoping he could make him eat a bit.  
“If you cook it, I might even eat it.” Sherlock answered and smirked. John frowned but stood. He walked into their kitchen and checked their supplies.  
“Risotto!” Sherlock suddenly yelled from the sofa and it made John flinch. He turned around.  
“Don’t yell your orders at me, please?” He seriously looked at him and Sherlock slowly stood.  
“Sorry. It just came up. Can you do it?” He quietly asked.  
“Yes. We have got everything, even lamb. You like?” John asked making Sherlock smile.  
“Me like.” Now John smiled, too.  
“I will even pour your beloved Martini into the risotto.” John said with a grin. Sherlock raised a brow.  
“But it needs to be shaken, not stirred.” He sounded dead serious trying to appear cool.  
“I might have done it, if you’d be wearing one of your fancy suits.” John laughed and it made his eyes shine. Sherlock clearly noticed that and he liked the sight.  
“I think, my dressing gown counts as fancy, too.” Sherlock stated.  
“Perhaps it does in your bedroom.” John replied.  
“That’s something, isn’t it?” They looked at each other until John was the first to break the spell. He turned around and just started to wash and cut the vegetables. Sherlock looked at his back for a few more seconds and spontaneously decided to get them a bottle of wine he had stolen from Mycroft the week before.  
The moment Sherlock walked away to retrieve the bottle; John looked over his shoulder. But only when Sherlock wasn’t able to turn around anymore and see what he was doing, he adjusted his pants. The heat had moved from his face over his ears down to his chest.  
Only why didn’t Sherlock do the sex? Or did he and it was only just not with him?  
“Bloody hell …” John muttered chopping more wildly.  
Suddenly a glass of wine appeared by his side and he hadn’t seen it coming. He cut into his skin and it bled strongly.  
“Fuck!” John yelled and held up his hand. Red blood dropped down from his palm and ended up on the wooden counter. Luckily John’s reaction had been quick enough, so no food was contaminated.  
“Shit …” A tiny voice came from the side and a large hand took his and gently held it beneath the cold water.  
“I didn’t mean to. I am sorry.” John looked at Sherlock who just stared into the sink.  
“Never mind, mate. It won’t kill me.” John held up his hand and looked at the cut. Sherlock finally woke again.  
“I meant well and only wanted to offer some wine.” He handed over a tea-towel and went to get the band aids from the first-aid-box. John patiently waited and let him do this. He knew Sherlock needed it and if he wouldn’t let him help now, he wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about this incident.  
That’s why John endured Sherlock’s first-aid treatment of cleaning his skin and finally applying band aids.  
“There you are. Now you can proceed making me dinner.” A small smile was on his face, but he kept looking at John.  
“Thank you, Sherlock. It’s all fine. And I will have a sip of wine right now.” Sherlock obviously relaxed and they clinked glasses.  
“How long?” Sherlock asked. John had expected this and had prepared a snack for him, he now shoved over.  
“Here you go. I have peeled you an orange the way you like it.” Sherlock’s face lightened up upon seeing that John had taken off all the skin. He snatched the plate away and looked happy.  
“You are a saint!” He quickly went over to the sofa and devoured the orange slices. John shook his head. This man was so weird, but he liked him a lot. Perhaps even a bit too much.  
After a while everything was frying in the pan and John brought his wine over to Sherlock and sat on the sofa’s armrest. They looked at each other and a shy smile appeared on Sherlock’s face.  
“I liked the orange.” He quietly said and then stuck two fingers into his mouth. John just stared and felt hot again. Some blood rushed south rather quickly and he had no way to hide. He kept his eyes fixed on Sherlock who didn’t realise what was going on.  
“Now I am all sticky.” He pulled out his fingers with a plop and grinned up at John.  
“Next time I will hand you a wet tissue then, too.” John grinned and quickly stood.  
“I’ll check on our dinner. Why don’t you set up the table?” He suggested. Sherlock sighed but stood.  
“If I must?” But he moved.  
“I insist.” John called out after him eliciting a quiet chuckle. He finished their dinner and filled a large bowl with the content of the pan. He brought the bowl and the bottle of wine to their kitchen table where Sherlock had managed to let it look like a fancy restaurant place. John was surprised.  
“I had no idea; we had a table-cloth and linen napkins!” But he liked it and it showed. Sherlock felt great.  
“Mycroft gave them to me when I moved in. He thought, I needed them.” He shrugged.  
“I think so, too.” John said and sat down eyeing everything. He had never owned such nice things. For Sherlock they were probably normal.  
“If you like it, we will use them.” Sherlock just said and it made John feel so good. He smiled up at Sherlock.  
“Sounds good to me.” He ate some more.  
“I know you like it nice and tidy and I will try to do it for you, John.” He had finally started to shovel the food into his mouth and it made John smile again.  
“No worries, Sherlock.”  
They finished dinner and Sherlock even helped washing up and putting the dishes into the dishwasher. John let him and watched him stuff everything inside. He hoped all plates and other things breakable would stay in one piece, but the machine made no funny noises after it had started. Sherlock looked very pleased with himself.  
“Let’s kill the wine!” He pulled John along and towards the sofa. Obviously, Sherlock was a bit tipsy now and this amused John quite a lot.  
They sat side by side and Sherlock just kept looking at John.  
“What is it?” John asked.  
“Does your hand hurt?” He asked this very seriously and John had to do to keep his face in check.  
“No, it doesn’t. You took good care of me. It’s all fine.” John replied.  
“I am very sorry.” Sherlock said and John reached out for him. He turned him, so they could face each other.  
“You are repeating yourself. I told you, I am fine. It was just a small cut. Don’t fret anymore, OK?” John said.  
“Hm …” Sherlock cast his eyes. John waited him out because this was the sound, he made, when he needed a few seconds to sort through his brain for the words he wanted to spill.  
“Whenever I try to do something nice, it ends up bad. I don’t know how to do it, how to be nice.” He stared into nothing. John sat up straight.  
“Oh, that’s utter bullshit!” He loudly said and it made Sherlock look into his eyes.  
“It is?” He wondered and John nodded.  
“Oh, absolutely and you know it.” Sherlock kept looking at him and slowly, almost unbelievingly, shook his head.  
“I am not sure …” Now John dared and took his large hand between his smaller ones.  
“It is not your fault what happened. I should have been more careful with the knife. So just forget it, OK?” Both men looked at their hands but didn’t pull away.  
John wondered how this man could be so self-conscious with all his skills and talents.  
Sherlock wondered how this man could be so trusting with him, liked him even and have moved in with him. He also wondered why he hadn’t run away yet.  
By now John knew what Sherlock was thinking and he pressed his hand.  
“Stop it. I am staying. I won’t leave.” He assured him.  
“But I …” Sherlock said but got interrupted again.  
“Yes, I know. There was a head in the fridge as well as several other parts of a human body. Yes, the toxic fallouts after some of your experiments were not so nice. And when you burnt half of the kitchen, I really wasn’t amused.” John remembered all of these incidents very clearly and sometimes he still shuddered when thinking about it.  
“And yet you have stayed.” Their eyes met again and John saw the tears in Sherlock’s. He couldn’t but pull him into his arms and hold him. He hugged him tight.  
“Don’t you worry about me leaving. There is absolutely no reason.” John murmured and wondered why Sherlock didn’t hug back. He wanted to be hugged, too, so he just didn’t let go.  
But instead of getting a hug, he felt Sherlock lower his head. Then it was placed on his good shoulder. And finally, his jumper was soaked with tears. Sherlock cried absolutely quietly and it hurt John’s heart.  
“Hey, hey, hey. What’s up? Talk to me, because you are scaring me.” Sherlock didn’t answer and John just waited him out.  
It took Sherlock several minutes, but then John felt his clawing hands and he was pressed against Sherlock’s slim body.  
“It’s what I fear the most, you know? Being all by myself again. Without you. Old behaviour will come back to me and it will end badly. I try so hard. It never works. Never. And then …” John listened to him and just let him talk.  
“But all of this isn’t the reason for your mood, is it?” John asked and felt Sherlock tense. Then he let go and sat back up reaching out for the tissue-box on the coffee-table. He blew his nose and stuck the used tissue into the pocket of his dressing-gown. He cleared his throat.  
“No, it’s not.” Again, he didn’t say more. John looked at him.  
“If you don’t tell me, I can’t help you. And I very much want to help you.” John tried to look into his eyes again but Sherlock’s hair was covering them.  
“I already told you, that you can’t be of assistance in this matter. It’s just not possible.” Sherlock looked desperate.  
“Have you asked your brother?” John said but Sherlock shook his head.  
“Not even he could help with it.” Now John was really clueless. And way more worried than before.  
What the fuck was bothering Sherlock?  
Because if even Mycroft Holmes wasn't able to help, who else could do anything?


	2. Chapter Two

John hadn’t asked after the reason for his mood anymore. He had decided to wait him out. Sherlock would explain the reason eventually.  
Right now, Sherlock only was happy about the fact, that John stayed with him. In fact, John even pampered him a lot, cooked for him and took care of his sweet tooth. He even wore the band-aid longer than necessary to show how much Sherlock cared for him and how much he liked it.  
John kept watching Sherlock. He hoped to find out what bothered him. He hoped for some clues. Nothing emerges from it all.  
Sherlock still had his dreamy hours and floated through the flat sighing and groaning. Or he rested on the sofa with his arm covering his eyes like a drama-queen. He almost sat on John’s shoulder when he was cooking. John had even started to bake cookies to make him feel better.  
In the meantime, Sherlock had taken many cases and he had solved them all. He was in every newspaper and even on BBC morning. John kept watching this for a bit until one morning he almost collapsed on his way to a talk-show.  
John held him back. Sherlock tried to pull free, but didn’t make it.  
“I have an appointment, John. Let go of me.” He slurred. John raised a brow and pulled him back into the flat.  
“No. You aren’t fit to go, Sherlock. You look horrid, you are exhausted and you are behaving like a maniac.” John looked very serious.  
“I am a busy man.” Sherlock replied.  
“Do you want to collapse in front of millions of people?” He quietly asked and let go of him slowly.  
“No.” The answer took him a while but he stayed. He shed his coat where he stood and John picked it up.  
“Come on, mate. I will feed you and we will make ourselves comfy.” John suggested and gently led him over to the sofa.  
“But my appointment …” Sherlock looked at John.  
“I will call and tell them; you are on a case.” Sherlock handed over his mobile with the contact data. He slumped into the cushions and closed his eyes. John called and cancelled his appearance on the show. Turning around he saw Sherlock hanging halfway down and on his side being fast asleep. John sadly smiled and knelt by his side to take his shoes off. He gently placed him closer to the back and covered him with a blanket. Sherlock didn’t wake.  
John kept looking at him for a while. He still was worried about him. He looked paler than he normally was, almost a bit greyish. He had lost weight even though John fed him sweet things and good meals.  
Sherlock really was worried about something. But about what? John had no bloody idea. He had made sure that Sherlock knew, he wouldn’t leave him no matter what. So that couldn’t be the reason.  
Was he sick? Should he talk to Mycroft? But he was a doctor, so he should be able to see if his best friend was suffering from a severe sickness. Was he awaiting a fatal death? John started to sweat but then shook his head.  
Suddenly Sherlock started to murmur and John leaned in to listen. Normally he wouldn’t invade his privacy like this, but his behaviour wasn’t normal. The words he understood were weird though. Sherlock murmured something like “can’t be”, “impossible”, “end like this” and “miss it” as well as “need to know”.  
No, these weren’t words related to a fatal disease. John raised a brow and looked at a very distressed Sherlock. He decided to wake him. Carefully he placed his hand on his shoulder.  
“Sherlock, wake up! You are dreaming.” But Sherlock groaned and shook him off. John sat on the edge and shook him once.  
“Sherlock! Wake!” Only then his flatmate turned on his back and opened his eyes. He rather quickly focused on John and an honest smile came up. It made John smile, too.  
“There you are. Feeling better?” He asked and Sherlock nodded.  
“It was a nightmare. Thanks for waking me up. I didn’t like it.” He slowly said.  
“You should sleep some more though. I could give you a pill just once?” John knew what he offered here and he saw him really thinking about it.  
“Perhaps you are right. Thank you, John.” He looked tired and sat up against the back.  
“I will cook something light for you and afterwards put you to bed.” John blushed crimson and quickly turned away. He hoped Sherlock didn’t notice his innuendo. He normally never did, but you never know.  
Sherlock only noticed John going away quickly but nothing else.  
“He is probably bothered by my behaviour again. I need to get a grip on me. I can’t change things, but I can be better for him. He worries about me and I know it. He probably thinks, I am using again. I really need to come down.” He decided to take a refreshing shower and dress into comfy clothes. He got up and slumped into the bath. He felt that John watched him.  
He washed his hair and held his face under the spray. It did him some good and he felt much better coming out of the tub. He got a towel from the rack and again even hung it back up. He brought his hair in order and let it air-dry. He again did all of this for John, because he knew he liked it.  
Afterwards he walked into his bedroom and chose some old tracking pants and a hoodie. He felt like it, even though the flat was quite cosy. He added warm socks, too.  
And he knew that he needed to tell John, he was feeling well.

***

John looked at Sherlock after he had changed. He smiled up at him.  
“You look much better, mate. A good rest will help you even more. I am glad, I could make you stay at home.” John said.  
“So am I. I do feel much better already.” He slowly stepped up.  
“What are you cooking?” He inhaled once and licked his lips already.  
“Just some fried potatoes with an egg and onions.” John replied.  
“Perhaps with some cheese and herbs, as well?” Sherlock asked looking at John.  
“Sure thing.” John prepared it for Sherlock the way he liked it. He placed it on a smaller plate and made him sit down at the table.  
“There you are.” He also brought a glass of water for him and sat down. Sherlock picked up the fork and looked at him.  
“You don’t have to watch me, John. I will eat.” John blushed a bit and quickly stood.  
“I didn’t mean to watch you like that. I just wanted to give you company. I am sorry.” He turned away.  
“No, John. Please wait.” Sherlock quickly said and John looked over his shoulder.  
“It’s all fine. I’ll get the meds for you.” Sherlock slowly finished the meal and liked it a lot. It had been much needed. He took the plate into the kitchen and washed his hands in the sink. Then he finished the water and waited for John.  
John hadn’t wanted to crowd Sherlock or even give him the impression, that he checked on him. Obviously, he had said it wrong. John sighed taking a pill for Sherlock. He returned and found he had finished and was cleaning up his plate. John stepped up.  
“Here you are. Have some water with it, please. I’ll take care of that.” He moved up to take over, but Sherlock didn’t budge.  
“Thank you. And I didn’t want you to go away. You know, I like your company.” He whispered the words while putting the plate back into the cupboard.  
“I didn’t mean it to sound like I wanted to control you.” John leaned against the counter.  
“It did not sound like that at all.” Sherlock filled a glass with water and John handed over the pill. Sherlock took it and emptied his glass.  
“Do you have to work a late shift tonight or will you stay at home? I mean, you could of course meet Lestrade in your local or someone else. You don’t have to stay here, because I will be sleeping and very boring, too.” Sherlock babbled and it made John grin.  
“No, I will be staying. You know, I don’t think you boring. Never. You aren’t even boring when you are in bed. Rest assured, I am here with you.” John looked up at him and Sherlock smiled.  
“It will make it easier to fall asleep.” Sherlock disappeared into the bedroom and John heard him move under the sheets. He shook his head and poured a drink. He settled on the sofa with a book and very quietly switched the telly on.


	3. Chapter Three

A few more days passed by after Sherlock had slept the sleep of the death. But he looked much better after he got up on one of the following mornings. His hair looked like an exploded cushion and there still was the imprint of the pillow on his face. But he was in a very good mood when he appeared by John’s side and wished him a good morning.  
“Sherlock, how are you?” John turned around and looked him over. Sherlock smiled.  
“Very, very good and rested. I feel much better. Again, I have to thank you for taking such good care of me.”  
“No worries, mate. You must be hungry. You have slept again for more than ten hours. Would you like to have breakfast with me?” John offered and Sherlock’s face lightened up.  
“Yes! But don’t you have to go to work?” He asked.  
“No, today I am having a day off. We can indulge in a huge and unhealthy breakfast.” John said and it made Sherlock grin.  
“It sounds perfect to me. I’ll just go and wash up and be right back.” He dashed into the bath and John started to peel an orange for him.  
And when Sherlock finally emerged all dressed in fresh comfy clothes John was ready, too. Sherlock’s eyes became wide when he eyed everything on display including John who expectantly looked at him.  
“Please sit down with me.” He quietly offered and pulled away the chair. Sherlock sat and smiled up at him.  
“I promise to not feel observed.” He said and it made John chuckle.  
“I am glad you are better again.” John said.  
“Since you are having a day off, we could do something together?” Sherlock carefully suggested.  
“Oh, what do you have in mind?” John was surprised but very happy about the suggestion.  
“What would you like to do? You know more things.” Sherlock replied.  
“Hm, the weather is nice and it’s still early. We could board a train and go south?” John hopefully looked at Sherlock who only internally cringed.  
“And there? You can’t possibly expect me to go swimming?” Sherlock almost sounded scared now.  
“No, mate, I don’t. But we can walk by the beach, have something to eat and look into some interesting shops?” John said.  
“But what am I supposed to wear? My suits aren’t compatible with salty water and stony beaches.” Sherlock worried.  
“No, they surely are not. Just wear your denims and a hoodie and your leather jacket for surveillances. Get your scarf and ankle boots and it’s all fine.” John shrugged and Sherlock shuddered. But he didn’t want to disappoint John.  
“Just promise, you won’t laugh about me.” He looked at John.  
“I will even punch everyone who dares laughing.” John said and it made Sherlock grin.  
“I will film that with my phone.” He said.  
“I would be flattered.” John replied.

***

An hour later they were on the train to the coast. Sherlock had never been there and John tried to make him look forward. They left the station and walked down towards the beach and the sea. Suddenly they could see the water and Sherlock stopped. John manoeuvred him to the side and let him take a look without standing in the way of their fellow pedestrians. He looked fascinated.  
“It’s nice …” He said rather thoughtful and John nodded.  
“That’s why I wanted to come.” Sherlock took his arm.  
“Let’s get closer. I need to examine the water and the stones.” John was pulled along in a hurry until they stood close to the water. Sherlock was on his knees and collected stones, shells and took even water samples. He stored everything into plastic bags, actual evidence bags as John noticed, and stuffed these into his jacket.  
John watched him for a bit until he dared making a suggestion.  
“We should buy a bag somewhere. You will ruin your jacket plus it’s easier to carry.” Sherlock didn’t react. John reached out and gently pulled a strand of his hair.  
“Did you hear what I said?” John asked.  
“Hm. Yes, since I am not deaf, I was very much able to hear your words. Go and get me a bag then.” John sighed.  
“Promise to be here when I get back?” That made him look up.  
“Where would I go without you, John?” John stared at him completely overwhelmed. Then he just turned away smiling.  
Sherlock really stayed where he was except for some steps back and forwards. When his jacket pockets were completely stuffed, he stopped and looked, if John was on his way back but he wasn’t anywhere in sight. He looked around and found some large rocks he could sit on. It was warm enough so he stepped up and sat down facing the sea.  
It took other people only a minute until they approached him. Several guys walked over and tried to talk to him, but he quickly made them leave, mostly in a hurry, hurt and angry.  
The last man left when John returned.  
“Don’t approach him. He is dangerous.” The man whispered passing by and John raised a brow looking at Sherlock. Then he sighed and did approach. Sherlock turned to him all smiling.  
“You weren’t here to punch them, John. I had to get rid of them all by myself.” He said.  
“You must have been successful then, because I have been warned on my way here.” John grinned holding up a cotton bag with a Brighton logo on it. Sherlock snatched it and smiled.  
“This is a souvenir, isn’t it?” He put all his stones and samples in there and even carried it himself. He looked happy.  
Again, John was surprised how easy it was to make him happy.  
“There are lockers on the pier. We can leave your bag there, so you don’t have to carry it around.” John said pointing towards the pier. Sherlock looked and already got excited.  
“There are merry-go-rounds …” He looked at John, but quickly looked away again. John wondered, if he wanted to go, but didn’t ask him in case he had misunderstood his expression. So he just carefully nodded.  
“I would like to have a closer look after having stored this away.” He quietly said.  
“Sure, let’s go!” John grinned and looked forward to watching Sherlock ride in a merry-go-round.  
Soon enough John had bought several tickets for some of the rides and they lined up. Sherlock was excited. John really couldn’t remember when the last time had been, he looked so relaxed and happy. The sun shone and the wind blew through his hair. It was quite the sight. John was in awe and didn’t notice he was staring. When he did because Sherlock poked him, he blushed and quickly moved up to the first ride. Sherlock just followed.  
They rode an ancient rollercoaster and it seemed to be racing directly into the sea. Both men yelled and had a good time. Sherlock’s hands held tight to the bar and pressed it down. After the ride his hair was even messier and John took a picture. Sherlock gave him a real and honest smile.  
Next, they lined up for the ghost train. Sherlock wasn’t really able to fold his long legs into the cart, but the assistant let it go. John had no problems and frowned only a little bit. The cart rattled through the door and disappeared into the dark. It rode upstairs rather slowly and the moment it stood on the peak; Sherlock leaned over.  
“Booo!” He yelled into John’s ear who loudly screamed when the cart raced down. Sherlock had the time of his life and he stumbled out of the cart when the ride was over. John was rather pale and at once he felt sorry. He gently led him into an ice-cream parlour and bought some for him.  
“It was quite the scare, Sherlock. I screamed like a girl.” John said licking his ice and Sherlock smirked.  
“I admit, I had fun. It was a great idea to come here.” Sherlock replied looking for something to snack, too. He found roasted peanuts and bought a smaller bag. He almost inhaled them. John noticed it and made a mental note to make some at home for him.  
“What now?” Sherlock asked and expectantly looked at John.  
“There are some games to play, if you like?” He said pointing to the building ahead of them.  
“Games? What games?” Sherlock asked but moved forwards already.  
“Let’s see, shall we?” John walked along and Sherlock stared around at all the people pushing money into different machines. He stopped at a machine where a metal arm had to be moved to grab some stuffed toys.  
“I want to try this.” He told John and didn’t know how to do it.  
“Hold on.” John said and changed some money and got loads of smaller coins he put into a paper bucket. He handed it over to Sherlock together with several bigger coins who at once started. Five minutes later he held three stuffed toys and looked like a child.  
“Could you hold them? I want the next machine!” Sherlock hopped on the spot and John obediently took them. Sherlock fed the next machine and got four rubber ducks, one of them huge. His eyes were on fire and several children looked at him being very, very jealous.  
He even still had coins left and spent the left-over on some sort of bowling alley where you could roll balls into holes and get tickets. The more holes you hit that had high numbers above, the more tickets you got. When the coins were gone, Sherlock had loads of tickets.  
“What now?” He asked and John showed him the place, where he could exchange them for more stupid goods. He didn’t say stupid though, because Sherlock loved it.  
Finally, Sherlock eyed a photo-box.  
“Can we do that?” Sherlock asked and again John was surprised.  
“Sure thing. Let’s get in there. At least let’s try, because I am not sure we will fit both.” Sherlock shrugged and placed his hand on John’s lower back. John felt the heat creeping up but also enjoyed the touch.  
Sherlock followed close and both men hardly fit. John placed all of Sherlock’s things on the ground and sat on the small revolving chair.  
“I am afraid, you need to sit on my lap.” John said looking up. Sherlock just shrugged.  
“Why would I be afraid of that?” And he sat down. He even used his hand to move further up and sat more comfortably. John prayed to God above Sherlock wouldn’t notice his hard-on. Finally, they found a position and looked at the screen. Sherlock put the coin in there and both men laughed like idiots. The picture was taken, but they stayed seated. Sherlock looked at John holding on to his shoulder.  
“That was it?” He asked tilting his head.  
“I am afraid so, yes.” John replied holding him around the waist. His fingers played with his jacket. Still they looked into each other’s eyes. Sherlock worried his lips, but slowly made it up on his legs again. John felt cold.  
“Where is the picture?” Sherlock asked standing outside. John picked up all his prizes and stood by his side.  
“It takes a minute. Look, there you can see the status.” John pointed towards the machine. Both men glared at the display and waited until the picture was spit out. Sherlock snatched it and looked at it. Then he broadly smiled showing it to John.  
“See? This is us!” John looked at it and smiled, too.  
“It sure is and it is very nice. We should frame it back home and place it on a wall.” He suggested and Sherlock looked surprised.  
“You would do that?” Sherlock asked sounding very surprised.  
“Why wouldn’t I?” John asked shrugging.  
“I thought, you might find it embarrassing?” Sherlock replied.  
“But why? Why should it be embarrassing?” John didn’t get it.  
“Because it’s a picture of us. Together. In our home. It’s supposed to be very intimate, isn’t it?” Sherlock carefully said. Finally, John understood.  
“I don’t mind. It’s a beautiful picture and we will hang it up!” Again, they smiled and Sherlock took off to get an envelope from someone. John waited with all his toys and got a soda while waiting.  
“Have your children taken off without you?” Suddenly a female voice asked. John looked up.  
“What? No!” He answered and the woman just sat down. John was so not interested, but he was too polite to deny her.  
“Where are they?” She kept asking and John looked at her.  
“Nowhere.” He replied being almost as impolite as Sherlock because he wanted to get rid of her. Right then Sherlock returned with an envelope and stood by his side. He glared at the woman and leaned against John’s shoulder.  
“John, I am back.” He said with a velvety voice. The woman stared up at him and abruptly stood leaving without any good-bye. Instead Sherlock sat down.  
“Who was that?” Sherlock asked.  
“I have no idea. I wasn’t interested, so I didn’t ask.” John frowned and carefully took the envelope.  
“Normally you flirt with women who try to chat you up.” Sherlock stated.  
“Not anymore.” John only murmured the words while he put the picture into the envelope. It had even card-board on the back, so it wouldn’t bend.  
Sherlock looked a bit dumbfounded but didn’t insist. Instead he stood.  
“Let’s have something to eat before we ride back home. There were some restaurants by the promenade.” He pulled John up who carried all his things. On their way out Sherlock carried his bag and they bought one more on the way for all his toys.  
They found a rather nice pub and for once Sherlock didn’t talk back. At once he was able to find them a place by the window looking out at the sea. He just glared at some other people who didn’t dare taking over the table anymore after having looked at him. He sat down with all his stuff and expectantly looked at John.  
“Where is the menu?” He asked already looking for a waiter. John raised a brow.  
“This is a pub, Sherlock. There are no menus. You have to order at the counter and take it to your place.” John explained.  
“What?” Sherlock said shocked.  
“I’ll get us a beer and find out what’s cooking. Just stay seated.” Sherlock shed his jacket and did just so. He watched John disappear and looked around and outside. He wasn’t able to remember when he last had been in a pub. Had it been with Greg? It must have been years ago.  
John returned with two pints of lager and Sherlock licked his lips.  
“Thanks.” He said and pulled it closer. John was surprised.  
“You are welcome, mate.” He sat down and handed over a paper. Sherlock took it.  
“This is what’s cooking?” He asked and made John smile.  
“Yes, it is. Tell me what you want and I get it for us.” Sherlock read it over and decided.  
“I’ll have fish and chips, please.” He said.  
“Good choice, I think. I’ll take the same.” John stood again and walked back to the counter to order.  
“Will it be served when ready or do you have to go into the kitchen to get it?” Sherlock asked John when he returned.  
“I am not sure. But I don’t mind picking it up.” He answered.  
“I will.” Sherlock offered. Obviously, this new experience was something to be explored.  
They sipped their beers and Sherlock sorted through his toys.  
“Where will you be keeping them?” John asked.  
“I think, I will arrange a new place in my bedroom for the fluffy animals. The ducks will sit in our bath.” John grinned.  
“I like that. They will remind me of this wonderful day every time I am in there.” Sherlock looked up.  
“It really was. Is. A wonderful day, I mean.” He said rather quietly.  
Right then their food was announced and Sherlock was on his feet. John stopped him though.  
“You have to pay for it at the counter now.” He wanted to give him the money, but Sherlock shook his head.  
“Food is on me, John.” He said.  
“Thanks, mate.” John replied. He watched Sherlock talk to the man at the counter. The guy clearly was in awe and handed everything over to Sherlock. Sherlock even got a tray. When he wanted, he could be very charming. And if he didn’t, the guy would have been in tears by now.  
Sherlock placed John’s plate in front of him on the table.  
“There you are, John.” He even had a basket with bread and butter. The tray went on the floor and they started to eat. They also emptied their beers while eating and the moment the empty glasses were on the table, two fresh ones appeared by their sides brought over by the waiter. Sherlock smiled at him and even thanked him. John just shook his head.  
The meal was great and afterwards they walked back to the station. Sherlock fell asleep the moment he sat in the train.

***

John had to wake him when they arrived back at Victoria Station and he looked all drowsy.  
“Come on now, we’ll take a cab home.” They carried their things and Sherlock swayed by John’s side. He also slept during the ride to Baker Street and John shook his head. He mostly shoved him upstairs and into his bedroom to get comfy. Soon enough he was able to hear the shower. He appeared again clad in a tee and trackpants clothes. His hair still was a mess and his face had a healthy colour. It was a good look on him.  
“Are you OK, Sherlock? How do you feel?” John asked.  
“Perfect! I feel splendid!” He sat on the sofa with his long legs outstretched. John was pleased, Sherlock had liked the day. John entered the bath to take a shower, too, and also noticed the rubber ducks sitting in their bath. He grinned. This was somehow childish, but he liked it. He liked his flatmate. Perhaps he liked him a bit too much. Rather quickly he showered and turned the water tap to cold taking care of his nether regions.  
He changed into comfy clothes, too. Returning to Sherlock into the living-room said one expectantly looked at him. John raised a brow.  
“What is it?” He asked.  
“I am still a bit excited. I am so not tired after having slept all the way back. Would you like to have a drink with me before retiring?” Sherlock asked.  
“I am wide awake, as well. What do we have in store?” John wondered turning towards the kitchen.  
“Just wait a second. I have something I retrieved from my brother’s.” He hurried into his room and came back with a bottle of very old Lagavulin. John gaped.  
“By retrieved you mean you stole it, am I right?” Sherlock shrugged and got two tumblers from the cupboard. John stepped up grinning.  
“Why does he never say anything?” John wondered.  
“What is he supposed to say? It wouldn’t change anything.” He handed over John’s drink.  
“To our wonderful day.” He said.  
“We will repeat it soon enough.” John added. It made Sherlock smile.  
Both men sat on the sofa sipping their drink.  
“I saw the ducks in the bath. I like it.” John looked at Sherlock.  
“I even legally won them.” Sherlock replied and it made John grin.  
“Yes, you did.” Suddenly John looked at Sherlock with a thoughtful expression. Sherlock tilted his head.  
“You know, I liked you being all happy and excited today.” John said with a quiet voice.  
“And I liked being all happy and excited. I have never done such a thing before and I loved the day out.” Sherlock replied.  
“We should do this more often then. It will do us bloody good.” John said.  
“But what can we do next time?” Sherlock wondered.  
“What would you like to do? Don’t you have any wishes or ideas? Where would you like to go? What would you like to see?” John asked looking forward already. He looked at Sherlock and waited for a reply. It took him a moment until he realised, that Sherlock looked sad and tears had welled up in his eyes.  
“What’s wrong?” He asked moving closer.  
“I am such a weird person.” Sherlock made a small snort. John just tilted his head and motioned for him to go on.  
“I have no idea how to answer your question, because I don’t know what there is to do.” His voice was almost impossible to understand.  
“Then I will be making suggestions and you can think them over. It’s no problem.” John looked at him. He wondered, if he should give him a hug but didn’t dare. Sherlock looked like he needed one but then there was the thing that he didn’t like to be touched.  
“What would I do without you?” Sherlock sighed and drank.  
“I am good for more than blogging.” John said and it made Sherlock choke. Now John grinned.  
“What? I am right, am I?” John argued but kept grinning. Sherlock recovered and reached out for him.  
“John, I don’t think you are only good for blogging.” He almost looked shocked and carefully folded his large hand around John’s arm. The heat burnt through the layer of clothing right into his skin. Sweat pooled around John’s tailbone.  
“So, what else am I good for?” John asked a bit roughly leaning in. He saw Sherlock swallow and lick his lips. He cast his eyes.  
“Much more, I believe.” He roughly whispered. John tried to catch his eyes.  
“You should know, that I loved our being together today. It was close, almost intimate. I like you by my side like that.” John admitted parts of his feelings. He hoped, Sherlock would finally understand.  
“I had something new today, I didn’t know I missed. Doing things together, spending a good time, it was wonderful. I do know, of course, that there are more things one can do together, should do together.” He closed his mouth and sighed.  
John hoped he was talking about the same thing; he was thinking he was. But he didn’t push. He waited. After several minutes he sipped his drink. Sherlock’s hand was still on his arm and he didn’t pull away.  
“Let’s have another drink.” Sherlock suddenly stood and John was pushed to the side. He was used to this kind of behaviour and didn’t complain. Instead he just held up his tumbler. After he was handed back his drink, Sherlock disappeared into his room.  
“I remembered where it is!” He called out and coming right back he threw himself back on the sofa by John’s side.  
“You remember what now?” John asked being a bit confused.  
“My note from when I was a child.” He held up a piece of paper torn at the edges, smudgy and just old looking.  
“What note?” John asked.  
“It’s more a list. I always made lists.” John looked a bit shocked but understood.  
“I know. So, what did you write down?” The paper was still folded but now Sherlock held it out for John to take.  
“It’s a wish list. I wrote down things I wanted to do.” Sherlock said looking sad. John took the paper and read. It contained things like swimming in the sea, visiting a funfair, going to the zoo, and going on holiday anywhere, visiting Stonehenge and listen to a rock concert.  
“What’s left then?” John asked not understanding.  
“Everything. I haven’t done any of it. No one wanted to do these mundane things. I was told, they weren’t any good.” Sherlock looked at John who was shell-shocked and just stared at him. Then he cleared his throat.  
“I will be your company. We will go everywhere and collect more souvenirs. I love doing these things and I will show you all of it.” John promised handing back the paper. Sherlock was in awe.  
“Really?” He quietly asked.  
“Really!” John answered. Sherlock downed his drink and so did John. Then Sherlock topped it up again. Then he wiped over his eyes almost with an angry motion.  
“It’s the past, Sherlock. It’s over and you can’t change it. We are the now and I will be there with you, show you everything you want. It’s never too late.”  
“I think, I forgot to make one entry, John.” Sherlock said and John raised a brow.  
“What entry?” John asked.  
“Getting regular hugs.” Sherlock didn’t look at him, but John quietly laughed.  
“You can get them either from me or I will find nice people who will regularly hug you, such as Molly or Lestrade.” A small smile appeared on Sherlock’s face.  
“What if I only want hugs from you?” He asked looking into John’s eyes.  
“Then I give you many hugs, as many as you want, anytime you want.” John’s voice became rough and he leaned in.  
“Like right now?” Sherlock asked and John nodded.  
“Like right now.” He downed his drink and placed the tumbler on the coffee-table. Sherlock followed suit and expectantly looked at him. John pulled him into his arms and hugged him tight, moving his hands over his back.  
Sherlock closed his eyes and sighed. Very carefully he leaned into John’s embrace and just enjoyed. It felt nice, so nice.  
He moved his head and finally rested it on John’s good shoulder. This was such a nice replacement for the thing he missed. Perhaps it was even better.  
Sherlock huddled closer and almost crawled into John who just kept holding him.  
“Sherlock?” John said and Sherlock pressed against him.  
“Hm?” He made a sound, that wasn’t quite a word.  
“Are you feeling better?” John asked.  
“I wasn’t feeling too bad.” Sherlock replied.  
“Believe me, you were. So?” John insisted and Sherlock knew, he had to tell him something. He can’t ever find out.  
“I feel wonderful now. After our day at the sea and this now, I possibly can’t feel any better. I had a bit of a blue period, but I think I am done with it.” He quietly said.  
“Mostly.” He added but only inside his head. John relaxed. Sherlock felt it, felt his body lose the tension.  
“That’s good because your behaviour was worrisome. You behaved like …” John stopped.  
“You can say it. I behaved like an addict who wasn’t able to get to his drugs that he so urgently needed.” Sherlock said.  
“Yes, that’s what I meant. I mean, I know you don’t use anymore, but you scared me. You really did and I do hope you are done with it.” John sighed now, too, and held him close against his muscular body.  
“I look forward to all the activities.” Sherlock said and pulled up his legs. John was reminded of a large and slender cat making itself comfortable on his lap.  
“So do I. I am glad we will be doing all this together.” John said.  
“So, you missed us doing such things?” Sherlock asked pulling at John’s jumper.  
“Sort of? And stop pulling. You will ruin it.” He held Sherlock’s hand.  
“That was the whole intention, John. It’s one of your most awful jumpers.” Sherlock said and kept pulling.  
“Oi!” John slung his arms around Sherlock and pressed his arms to his side. Sherlock struggled but laughed.  
“Stop that and let go!” He became louder, but there was laughter in his voice.  
“Only if you promise to behave!” John said smiling and Sherlock snorted. Then he seriously struggled and a playful fight broke out.  
John was very much surprised by how strong Sherlock was. He had had no idea.  
Finally, they both fell off the sofa and Sherlock turned them while falling so John fell on top and didn’t hurt his shoulder. The air left Sherlock’s lungs but he smiled up at John.  
John came to a halt on top of his bony flatmate.  
“You OK, Sherlock?” He quickly asked and Sherlock nodded.  
“Absolutely.” Sherlock replied and felt John’s cock poke into his thigh. He didn’t move away though. It was quite the experience for him. Was his best friend aroused because of him? Or was it because of the struggling?  
John felt hot because he was hard and quickly got up holding his weight on his arms. He knew his face was red but lucky him Sherlock didn’t mention it or even asked a weird question.  
“I am sorry.” He said instead and by now knelt over Sherlock caging him in. Sherlock looked up but didn’t move.  
“What for?” Sherlock asked.  
“I fell on top of you.” John answered and slowly got up making his knees crack.  
“That’s not what you are sorry for, John.” Sherlock whispered. John turned his head away.  
“No, it’s not.” He quietly said.  
“It’s the one thing I didn’t write down because I was too young back then.” Sherlock said from down below.  
“Would you add it now?” John boldly asked.  
“Yes, I would.” Then Sherlock blushed and quickly got up making a few steps back.  
“I wouldn’t mind, you know? I would like being with you.” John reached out for him.  
“Really? Why?” Sherlock asked and it made John blush a shade deeper.  
“I would like to be with you because you are a wonderful person. You care about people close to you. You have an excellent mind. I love your hair. You are charming and beautiful.” A deep red covered Sherlock’s cheekbones.  
Sherlock was at a loss for words. He just looked at John.  
“So, what do you see? You seem to be attracted to me, at least a bit?” That comment of John woke him.  
“A bit? John! You are a very handsome man. Your hair shines golden and silver in the sun. Beneath your ugly jumpers you hide a perfectly formed and very muscular body. Your eyes are blue like the sea and sometimes stormy. I feel hot when you use your Captain’s voice.” Sherlock stopped licking his lips.  
“My what?” John asked wondrously.  
“You use it when you are angry and fed up with me. You get loud and your voice booms both through the flat and my body. It makes me stop whatever I do. You can be very commanding, very dominant.” Sherlock tried to explain and John cast his eyes.  
He had been a commanding officer, so there was the explanation. And talking about him being a dominant. Well, how should he explain his very private sex preferences to a virgin like Sherlock? He would run away screaming. He sighed.  
“I won’t.” Sherlock said making John look up.  
“You won’t what?” John asked.  
“Run away screaming. You know, I am using your computer. Naturally, I have looked at your browser history.” Sherlock nonchalantly shrugged.  
“Naturally.” John said. Sherlock just looked at him. John felt like he had to say more.  
“And it didn’t scare you off. My browser history did.” Slowly John reached out and Sherlock pulled him close.  
“No. It made me very curious though. I mean, I do know about such things because of my brother, but as you have just discovered, I never have done something even remotely close to it. I think, I may find these procedures interesting.”  
“You never fail to surprise me.” John said smiling.  
“Since you still are aroused, you should get your ropes or whatever and proceed.” Now John was simply shocked.  
“What? You can’t be serious!” He shook his head.  
“Of course I am serious, John. Do pay attention. It’s on the list now and you said you will do the things with me that are on it. So?” John started to get a headache and rubbed over his forehead.  
“We can’t just jump straight into this, Sherlock. Jesus, I can’t even just take you to bed. You really are insane.”  
“But you said you liked me.” He pouted.  
“I more than like you.” John replied.  
“Where is the problem?” Sherlock threw his arms up and dropped them again. The perfect petulant child close to a tantrum.  
“We do need to negotiate, Sherlock. And when I will take you to bed, I will make love to you. I want to be rested. I want us to have wine and rest before the fire.” Sherlock came down again listening to John.  
“Romantic sod.” He said but with a tender voice. John smiled.  
“Yes, it comes with the package.” Sherlock came up close to John and hugged him again.  
“I like the whole package.” He whispered into John’s ear.


	4. Chapter Four

Sherlock had managed to coax John into his bed that night and they had slept side by side huddled close. Nothing happened between them but both men enjoyed it a lot. It was a beautiful ending of a wonderful day.  
Sherlock now concentrated fully on John. Sex with John was priority one and got up first on his list. He almost forgot about his real problem because John was quite the thing to make him forget almost everything.  
John was glad Sherlock wasn’t moody and blue anymore. Instead he was distracted by John. John smirked about it quite a lot. He also enjoyed being allowed to touch that wonderful man. Very often they were on the sofa with Sherlock’s head in John’s lap and John just carded through his thick, dark hair. And if John was doing really well, he even could make him fall asleep.  
Another plus was, that John could make him eat. John paid with kisses and hugs and it worked. He always listened to Sherlock’s wishes and cooked his favourites.  
The handwritten list sat on Sherlock’s desk in his bedroom. John knew, he had to get back to it, but it still was too soon. He needed to explain everything to Sherlock very thorough. He also would have to tread very carefully, because Sherlock didn't know what he liked or preferred yet. They had to go for trial and error and face the consequences of serious nervous breakdowns while having the sex John liked.  
John knew, it would be worth the effort though. One day he would have Sherlock all tied up, gagged, and blindfolded on his knees before him. John became hard only thinking of this. He quietly sighed leaning back and closing his eyes.  
And that's how Sherlock found him on their sofa smiling into nothing with his eyes closed. He carefully stepped up and his eyes roamed over John's body. They rested on the very prominent bulge in his denims and he swallowed.  
He very much wanted to touch John down there, but he didn't dare. It was inappropriate and probably a bit not good, as well. John would be angry with him and yell into his face.  
But perhaps he could touch somewhere else? His face? His head? Stroke over his hair that shone with sun rays coming through parts of the curtain right now?  
So, he very quietly went down on his knees by the sofa and reached out. Long fingers were placed on John's head and he turned into the touch. The smile on his face deepened. Sherlock smiled, too.  
Long fingers moved through his short hair, scratched over his still shaved neck. Sherlock liked the feeling of it, very much so. And according to the noises John let out while being asleep, he did, too.  
Sherlock crept closer until his nose was behind John's ear. He deeply inhaled and had to close his eyes. It was the most amazing scent he had ever encountered. At once he brought it up into John's place inside his Mind Palace. But whom was he kidding. It was a whole bloody wing. He inhaled once again and sorted through it. There was the aroma of wood, disinfect and tea plus the very special essence of John, the scent that made him unique.  
Sherlock’s other hand found its way on top of John's chest. Luckily for Sherlock, he wasn't wearing one of his hideous jumpers and only a soft faded grey army t-shirt. Sherlock’s hand slowly crept towards John's stomach and he felt his muscles twitch when he used just a tiny bit of pressure there. It was an amazing feeling. His eyes moved over to John's crotch and the bulge had grown rather impressively.  
Sherlock gnawed on his lips and unintentionally he used some more pressure on John's torso and it made him quietly groan.  
“Hush, John. Keep sleeping.” Sherlock whispered in his low baritone that only elicited another groan. And then John opened his eyes. His gaze was drowsy, sleepy and Sherlock drowned in it.  
Plus, he was effectively nailed to the spot by it.  
John turned his head and looked at Sherlock.  
“What are you doing?” He asked and Sherlock swallowed.  
“I tried to be not inappropriate.” He replied and it made John laugh. His hand found Sherlock’s on his stomach and he held it tight.  
“It felt nice. What you did.” John said looking up at him and at the same time massaging his fingers.  
“You smell nice!” Sherlock blurted out the words.  
“I should hope so.” John grinned and slowly sat up. Now he was on the same height with the still kneeling Sherlock.  
“You are ...” Sherlock swallowed hard and his eyes darted south. So did John's. He cleared his throat.  
“So it seems. I am sorry.” He wanted to get up but was stopped.  
“No, there is no reason to be sorry.” They looked into each other's eyes until John's eyes moved south. There he found Sherlock’s impressive hard-on.  
“You ...” His voice was rough and Sherlock cast his eyes.  
“So it seems.” He shyly smiled at John and John just returned it.  
“Would you like me to help with this?” John gestured south.  
“No, I'll just take a cold shower. You don't have to.” Sherlock slowly shook his head and stood. And now it was John who stopped him.  
“Wait.” And Sherlock did stop. He looked over his shoulder but didn't say anything. John looked up at him.  
“Instead we could have a warm shower together?” He carefully suggested.  
“Why would you offer such a thing? It's nothing you like.” He sounded defensive and confused.  
“You have absolutely no idea what I like. What else I like. For once you can't deduce it and it scares you.” He stepped up close and Sherlock made a tiny step back.  
“I looked at the porn you have saved on your hard-drive. I also know about your browser history. There was nothing about a kink regarding showers. You don't have to sacrifice yourself.” Sherlock swallowed making several more steps away from John.  
“Sacrifice myself? What are you talking about? I just wanted to help. I wanted to be close to you. But I can see now, you are so not ready for anything.” He sadly shook his head and turned away.  
“John?” Sherlock’s head shot up, but John didn't react.  
“John!” Again, Sherlock called out for him, but John just disappeared into the bath.  
Sherlock had no idea, what he was supposed to do now. What was the proper reaction? He thought about it while staring at the closed door and listen to the rattling pipes. John used the loo and brushed his teeth. Then he listened to the shower-curtain being moved.  
That noise and his thinking-without-a-result made him move forwards. On his way he shed all his clothes and opened the door. He walked up to the tub, pushed the curtain away and stepped inside.  
“Sherlock!” John shouted and glared up at him. Sherlock closed the curtain and stuck his hair under the spray while he moved John to the side.  
“You offered. Remember?” Sherlock said avoiding to look closer. He was well aware of his penis pointing up and leaking. Why was it leaking? If he wouldn't be careful, he would bump against the tiles with its head.  
“I sure do. I also remember you denied me. And now you hog all my hot water.” Strong hands were suddenly on Sherlock’s hips and he was made to step aside. Again, John stood under the water washing out the shampoo. While doing so he looked up and saw a dumbstruck Sherlock. He smirked and Sherlock slanted his eyes.  
“You are still like that.” He gestured downwards and John nodded.  
“So are you. Beautifully so.” John smiled now and Sherlock melted. He also furiously blushed and turned around. But there was no place to go because he still had shower foam all over his body. He also felt John very close behind him.  
“May I touch you?” John whispered and Sherlock swallowed. He just nodded for once being unable to speak.  
Soon enough there were John's hands on his hips holding him. He felt the gentle pull and moved back so he stood under the spray again.  
“Close your eyes.” John whispered and Sherlock for once did as being told. John gently turned him around and washed the shampoo off his body and also his hair. He even massaged his scalp and Sherlock lowered his head for him. It was perfect.  
John's hands slowly began their way down Sherlock’s body. Tender fingers moved around his nipples and when he once pinched them Sherlock made a noise close to an undignified squeak. His penis was leaking constantly by now. John again made him turn his body.  
One palm was flat on Sherlock’s muscular stomach and the other was palming an arse-cheek. It was glorious and John felt the urge to bite and lick, but he refrained from doing so. He would only scare him away. He shakily inhaled and exhaled several times until he was ready. He reached around Sherlock and gently took his cock in hand. It was long, white, and thick. It felt beautiful. It was just as beautiful as the whole package.  
Sherlock was panting by then and his body shook. His thighs were trembling like a frightened horse.  
“Please, John, I need to see you ...” Sherlock barely got the words out, but John at once gently turned him. They locked eyes and there were tears swimming inside Sherlock’s.  
“Hey, love, don't cry. Do you need me to stop?” But he simply shook his head and blinked the tears away. John stood on tiptoes and kissed his chin. He made him lean against the tiles and went down on his knees. He placed his right on Sherlock's thigh and his left took the base of his prick. He straightened up and sucked him inside his mouth.  
The moment Sherlock felt his penis being engulfed by hot wetness, he looked down. There was John. John was on his knees. John had his penis inside his mouth and now he looked up grinning around it.  
“Jaaawwwnnnn!” A flat hand landed on John's head and spidery fingers tangled into his short hair. John hollowed his cheeks and sucked until Sherlock's head touched his throat. Then he swallowed and felt the pre-cum inside his mouth. While sucking he moved his hands up. Sherlock's cock kept twitching and he became louder. He stood pressed against the wall almost howling and panting.  
And when his balls pulled up John just swallowed around the head and looked up. He met eyes the size of saucers. They were completely black. Then there was some tension and Sherlock's body stilled completely for a second. But then he violently came and screamed the place down.  
John swallowed everything Sherlock had to give and it was a lot. When he was done, Sherlock shook and slowly slid down the tiles. John held him, so he didn't get hurt.  
“God, what was that? It was amazing. Is it always like that? You have to do it again! Can I do that? Can you show me? God, please?” Sherlock stared into John's eyes and John just smiled and held him.


	5. Chapter Five

John had towelled Sherlock dry and gently led him into his bedroom. He wondered if he was allowed to stay, but didn't ask. He provided Sherlock with pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt.  
Sherlock sat on his bed still completely out of it.  
“Socks.” He suddenly said and John just nodded. He opened his drawer and wondered about his sock-index. He just took a pair that seemed to be warm. He even got down again to put them on Sherlock's feet. The moment he was done, Sherlock fell back and crawled up and under the duvet. His eyes were half closed, but he focused on John.  
“Hold me?” He whispered and John was able to hear the doubts in his voice, as if he thought John would deny him.  
“Happily!” John smiled and crawled under the duvet. He moved up close and pulled Sherlock against his chest.  
“Do you really like this?” Sherlock asked.  
“Absolutely. It's wonderful holding you. I always … Anyway, never be shy about asking me anything. Whatever you need, love.” John realised right then, he had to always tell him that he liked him, liked their being together. Why was Sherlock so self-conscious?

***

John was wide awake while holding a dozing Sherlock. He kept thinking about what he had told him before and suddenly stumbled over the fact, that he had said something like he knew about such things because of his brother. What did he mean? Was Mycroft a dom? Was he a sub? And most importantly, why did Sherlock know about it? What did he see? What did Mycroft do to him? Did he do something to his little brother?  
John rubbed his forehead. He was feeling the beginning of a headache. He closed his eyes and quietly groaned. He moved on his back and turned his head to face Sherlock. He was fast asleep and drooled on the pillow. John smiled.  
Gently he pulled him closer and held him against his chest. He didn't wake but sighed.  
Perhaps John could talk to Greg about it. Perhaps he knew something. And if not, he would do it the hard way and talk to Mycroft directly. Hell, probably big brother would turn up himself by tomorrow morning to give him the talk.  
Unconsciously his arms tightened around Sherlock who quietly let out a groan and at once John let go.  
“Hush, I am sorry. It's all fine. Go back to sleep.” He whispered the words and Sherlock didn't completely wake. But he turned in John's arms and buried his head under his arm pressing his nose against John's ribs.  
John buried his nose into his thick dark hair and closed his eyes in delight. He fell asleep quickly.

***

The next morning John woke due to a noise from the living-room. He still felt Sherlock by his side and he was sure it wasn't Mrs H because of the missing Yuuhuu. Very quietly he got out of bed and walked on tiptoe towards the door. His gun was upstairs in his room, so he had to use the moment of surprise on the intruder. He inhaled and ripped open the door jumping into the room.  
“Good morning, Dr Watson. Tea?” John stared at Mycroft sitting in his armchair.  
“What the fuck are you doing here?” He was beyond angry and glared at Sherlock's older brother.  
“Watching over my younger sibling the way I always do.” Mycroft sounded cold, dangerously so.  
“So, you really are giving me the talk?” John asked shaking his head.  
“It appears so.” Mycroft replied. Suddenly John became aware of the fact that he was almost naked apart from his boxers. He swallowed, tried to keep his dignity in place, and hurried back into the bedroom where Sherlock was still fast asleep.  
John quickly climbed into his trackpants and grabbed a t-shirt from the hardwood. It turned out to be Sherlock's and it was too tight. But John didn't mind. He wanted to be back into the living-room, because he didn't want Mycroft alone in there. God knows what he was up to.  
A finely sculptured brow was raised upon John's entry and he straightened up.  
“So?” John said no more but sat in Sherlock's chair.  
“I believe you had a splendid time in Brighton, Dr Watson?” Mycroft asked fingering the handle of his bloody ever-present umbrella.  
“We sure had. It's no concern of yours. I take good care of Sherlock. I won't ever harm or hurt him.”  
“My brother is reckless. And you follow him everywhere supporting his every whim.”  
“I love your brother.” A sharp bark was emitted and it was an ugly sound. John stood.  
“Get out, Mycroft. At once.” John pointed towards the door.  
“As you wish, Dr Watson.” Mycroft slowly stood and sauntered outside. He left the door open and very slowly walked down the stairs. John listened to the door being closed and a car drive away. He let out a shaky breath and was aware of the fact, that he had been holding his breath for quite a while.  
“What was that about? Bloody hell ...” He shook his head and filled a glass with water. He downed it in one go and leaned heavily on the sink. His throat was dry and his lips were, too. He drank some more.  
He didn't feel like getting up for real or even breakfast. He just moved back to Sherlock's side and climbed back under the duvet. He huddled up close and at once Sherlock's head was back under his arm. A content sigh was heard and John just had to smile. This was just beautiful. He relaxed with his fingers carding through Sherlock's hair and fell asleep again.

***  
Sherlock was dreaming and he was dreaming a very wet dream. He was tied by leather cuffs to his bed-posts, arms and legs spread wide. He was also wearing a head-harness including a big ball-gag. Underneath his chin was a leather strap attached to the harness so he wasn't able to move his jaw and push out the ball-gag. It was fantastic!  
He writhed on the mattress and begged from behind his gag. John though was merciless and moving way too slow. Once and again he touched him, rubbed his fingertips over a nipple or poked into his belly-button. When finally both nipples were severely clamped, Sherlock's body shone with sweat and he was leaking.  
John smirked and Sherlock knew he was up to no good. And he was right. Well, he usually was. John's hand took his testicles and once rudely pulled. Sherlock screamed but nothing really came out. He shivered and almost cried when his erection went poof.  
John now rather quickly got out some device and put his cock inside. He held a remote and suddenly there was suction. There also were electric pulses. At first they felt nice, extremely nice, and Sherlock relaxed. But the suction increased as did the electricity. The pulsing became faster and stronger. Sherlock's whole body shook.  
And John did it repeatedly until he blacked out. He was still thinking though. He was wondering about the fact, how he knew about these things. How was he even able to come up with something kinky like this in his dreams? He must surely remember stuff from John’s porn collection.  
He woke and his eyes were wide open. He smelled John. He heard John's snoring and he smiled. He moved his nose over John's chest.  
John. John was here in his bed. He hadn't left. This felt surprisingly nice.  
He placed his head back under John's arm and closed his eyes. He fell asleep even though his pants were soaked with cum. But he didn't mind. It had been such a wonderful dream and he didn't feel like getting up and clean himself. Then he would be wide awake and wouldn't be able to get back to sleep.  
***

John woke in the middle of the night because he felt ticklish. In fact, it was Sherlock's nose moving under his armpit and he gently pulled away. Sherlock murmured something and rearranged his octopus-like limbs. He didn't wake though and John relaxed again.  
But the moment he deeply inhaled he sucked in sex-loaded air. He raised a brow. It smelled fresh and he turned his head. Gently he placed his fingertips on Sherlock's crotch and found it completely soaked. He grinned.

***

Sherlock woke up first and had some unfortunate moments in the bath when trying to lower his boxers. He swore. It was something he rarely did and it woke John.  
“Problems in there?” He called out. Sherlocks snorted.  
“No, not at all.” He swore some more and finally John could hear the water run. He shook his head smiling. But he also wondered what had made Sherlock come. Could he ask him?  
He sat up against the headrest and waited for him to come out of the bath. He watched him getting dressed into one of his fancy suits and he raised a brow.  
“What’s up? Are we having a case?” But Sherlock shook his head.  
“Sort of? Please shower and get dressed, too.” And he disappeared into the living-room.  
“What?” John climbed out of bed and quickly went through his bathroom-routine. He got dressed even faster and joined Sherlock who sat in his armchair. John sat opposite of him.  
“You are scaring me, Sherlock. What’s happening?” John asked.  
“You don’t have to be scared. It’s just that now I can explain my behaviour from before. I know, you were worried about me.” Sherlock quietly spoke the words and carefully looked at John.  
“I sure was. And now I am again. So, what bothered you?” He demanded to know.  
“After I have found the porn on your computer, I was afraid you could leave me because I wasn’t providing what you needed. Or so I thought.” By now he only murmured.  
“I don’t know what to say, Sherlock. You really should know better. Should know me better.” John slowly shook his head. Soon his hands came up and covered his face. He fell back into his armchair and Sherlock saw his trembling body.  
“I believed, you expected me to have sex with you. I mean, you were always dating and staying away overnight. You seem to need it, John. And I never have… Well, this is getting embarrassing.” Sherlock’s face was crimson and he stood.  
“The only thing I ever wanted is you, damn it!” Suddenly John was standing in front of him looking very upset. Sherlock made a step back. John quickly lowered his hands that were raised.  
“Sorry, I didn’t... God, Sherlock. Please?” John reached out for him but Sherlock just looked at him and stayed where he was.  
“Do you believe me?” John quietly asked.  
“I want to. But with my non-existing experiences, I have to rely solely on your words.”  
“So?” John worried his lips and his injured hand shook. He favoured his good leg, too. And that was something Sherlock could interpret.  
He made the step back and his long arms came around John’s body. He hugged him tight.  
“John, I do believe you. I only didn’t know what to do before. This was so complicated. I thought I…” John’s strong arms were around him in a second.  
“Shut up, you idiot. Just say it. Please say the words?” He roughly whispered into Sherlock’s purple shirt.  
“I love you, John. Do you believe me?” He whispered and John was able to hear the tears in his words.  
“Yes, I do.” John replied without hesitation.


End file.
